it's you, me, and a forty pound cat let's roll
by Kandell
Summary: SET AFTER DARK KNIGHT! so anyway, this is what would happen if my OC were to go into the Batverse. From the author formerly known as zutarataang4eva.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Have you ever been in a car accident? Well, the first one I was ever in was quite something. Not only was my car totaled, but I, my sister, and our cat, Gordo, were transported into a parallel universe. Pretty trippy, right? Well, this is the story of how it all happened.

My name is Kelly Swanson. My older sister is Leslie. I'm 18, she's 20. I'm thin, about 5'10", with hazel eyes and long brown hair. Leslie is almost 6 feet tall with dirty blond, curly hair which goes a little bit past her shoulders. Gordo is a very large cat. He weighs about 40 pounds, but he's by no means fat. He's perfectly proportioned, just scaled much larger than a normal cat.

So anyway, Gordo needed a booster shot for his rabies vaccination, so Leslie and I took him to the vet. On the way back, Leslie was driving and I was holding Gordo's carrier. It was one of those trendy tote-like bags. So Leslie and I were talking about music, when the car in front of us screeched to a halt in order to not hit a kid who'd run out onto the street. Leslie slammed on the brakes, but the car behind us didn't have enough reaction time. In one terrifying moment, we were rear-ended at full speed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the driver side airbag deploy as I was thrown through the windshield, taking Gordo with me. My whole life flashed before my eyes, and then I saw white. Then tan, then dark brown. I had gone through the windshield and ended up flying onto a bed, then rolling off onto the dark wood floor. I moaned, trying to stand up, still clutching Gordo's carrier. I looked around to see where I was. As I turned to my left, I saw a man sitting up in his bed.

The man was very attractive. And shirtless. He had dark brown hair, dark eyes, slightly tan skin, and- holy shit. He was batman?

I found myself staring at a Christian Bale look-alike. He had a look of total bewilderment.

"You're probably wondering what I'm doing here," I said, pointing out the obvious.

"Uh, yeah," he said in a "thank you captain obvious" sort of way.

"Well, see, the thing is…" I trailed off, and took off running. I reached the door right as Alfred opened it. He was carrying a tray of breakfast. He simply looked right past me like it was no big deal that his boss had some strange lady in his bedroom. Oh, right, this is Bruce Wayne. Duh!

"Shall I go get more food?" Alfred asked in his oh-so-British accent.

"Oh, that won't be necessary," I said. "I was just leaving."

"Nonsense," I heard from behind me. Mm, sexy voice. I turned to look at Bruce, who was still sitting in his bed, his lower half still covered by the sheet and blanket. Alfred walked past me to the bed and set the breakfast tray down in front of Bruce.

"Excuse me?" I said, not sure if I had heard correctly.

"You at least have to stay for breakfast. Besides, you still haven't told me how you got in my room," Bruce said.

"Thing is, I'm not even sure how I got here," I scratched the back of my head. Gordo began to fidget in his carrier, causing me to set it down. He hopped out of the bag and shook a little. He looked up at Alfred and meowed. Well, okay, he squeaked, alright? Yeah, my forty pound beast of a cat squeaks. Alfred looked down at the ball of fur, and smiled slightly.

"You can pet him if you want," I said, feeling slightly awkward.

Alfred cleared his throat, and stood up straight.

"That's alright. How about I get this…cat, some food? Come on," he said to Gordo, who followed him out of Bruce's bedroom. Alfred closed the door behind him. I felt my cheeks begin to turn red. Here I was, in the bedroom of one of the hottest fictional characters, and we were totally alone.

"So…" I said.

"Toast?" Bruce asked.

"I'm good, thanks."

"So why don't you tell me how you got here?"

"Well," I began, "my sister and I were taking Gordo home from the vet, and we got in a car accident. The last thing I remember was going through the windshield and into your room. I know, it sounds like pretty lame, but I swear that's the truth."

"So you teleported?" he asked, completely unfazed by my story.

"Well, see, I didn't just change locations. I changed dimensions." At this, Bruce froze in mid-eating. He put his fork down and looked at me for a moment.

"That's interesting," he said. Wow. You know, for someone who always seems to have snappy one-liners and such, you'd think he'd be more creative with the words he used.

"Well, I'll be leaving now," I said, turning to leave.

"Nonsense," Bruce said. I stopped and turned back to him.

"Don't worry; you've got enough to worry about. I'd just be in the way. I mean, Batman can't-"oh shit…

Bruce face froze in shock.

"I…uh..."

"Now you have to stay here," he said, with a playful tone in his voice. I gulped.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

So, Bruce had taken it upon himself to be my host. I wouldn't be so opposed if he didn't constantly look at me with bedroom eyes. I mean, he's attractive and everything, but he's not only a bit old for me, but I'm one of those old-fashioned girls. Old-fashioned as in I don't want to ever lose my virginity. Anyway, I was hoping to get out of the mansion (yes, mansion. Wayne manor was rebuilt, so Bruce had moved back in) by going "shopping" and then more or less running away, but that wasn't going to happen. Bruce handed me a credit card and had Alfred escort me to the mall. Now, I'll admit that it was amazing to go shopping with absolutely no price limit, but the looks that the cashiers gave me when they saw the name on the card were pretty scary.

When I returned to the mansion, Bruce had apparently gone to a meeting at Wayne Enterprises. Alfred showed me to a room across the hall from Bruce's. I unpacked my new purchases into the walk-in closet, and went downstairs. I wandered my way into the kitchen, where I saw a really weird thing…Alfred was cuddling and playing with Gordo. I mean, take a parent and their baby, make the baby a forty pound cat, and you've got what was going on in front of me.

"Should I come back later?" I asked. Alfred looked up, startled. He stood, cleared his throat and straightened his clothes, regaining his British reserve. I couldn't help but smirk.

"Is there something you need?" he asked.

"Not really. I just sorta got bored and thought I'd explore the house. This is a pretty snazzy kitchen," I said, admiring the marble counters, marble floor, stainless steel appliances, and dark wood cabinets.

"Yes, quite."

"I bet you could bake about thousands of snicker doodles in one day."

"Snicker doodles?" he gave me a quizzical look.

"Yeah. They're really good cookies. Do you think I could maybe bake some? I've been told I make really good snicker doodles."

"Well, I have no problem with that. And Bruce does love cookies," Alfred said. Maybe it was just me, but I caught a hint of innuendo.

After showing me where everything was, Alfred left me to bake my snicker doodles. I went to town. When Bruce walked in the front door, the smell of freshly baked snicker doodles had permeated the air of the entire main level.

"Whoa, Alfred, what smells so good?" Bruce asked, entering the kitchen. I stood up, turning to face him. I saw the shocked look on his face. Okay, so maybe I went a little overboard on the baking. But so what if every single surface of the kitchen was covered in plates of snicker doodles? I had just pulled another (the last) batch out of the oven, and was looking for a place to put them.

"I baked," I stated.

"I can see that," Bruce said. "What did you-"

"Can you hold this for a second?" I interrupted him, handing him the sheet of cookies. I dumped a few plates of cookies into a Tupperware container, making room on the large island. I took the sheet from Bruce and placed it in the clear spot.

"What are you going to do with all of these?" Bruce asked.

"I don't know. I started baking, and I guess I got a little carried away," I said, gazing at my handiwork.

"A little?" he looked at me. I shrugged and gave him a shy smile.

"Maybe you can take them to the office for your employees?" I suggested.

"Maybe," he said, smiling slightly. He looked down at me for a moment, and I gazed up at his six foot five self. Then Alfred walked in.

"Dinner is served."

"Where?" I asked.

"The dining room," he replied.

"Oh. Right." I was definitely not brought up in high society. I followed Alfred and Bruce out of the kitchen and into the dining room, where a very fancy meal sat waiting for us. Bruce pulled my chair out for me, then sat down at the head of the table.

"So," he began, "how do you know I'm Batman?"

"Oh." I had forgotten that I'd spilled that little bean earlier. "Well, like I told you, I'm from a different dimension… In my world, you're a comic book character."

"A comic book character?" he stared at me in disbelief.

"Yeah. But you're also the cause for a multi-million- or is it billion? - well, the movies they made about you made a ton of money."

"Hm…" Bruce contemplated the new information.

I took my first bite of dinner. And it was better than sex! Well, okay, I didn't know that for sure, but a girl can speculate! It was some sort of roast, with roasted potatoes, asparagus, and what I thought was a plum sauce. There was also wine, but I wasn't going to touch that since I was underage.

"So, you never did tell me your name," Bruce said as I finished chewing my first bite.

"Oh. It's Kelly. Kelly Swanson."

"Kelly. That's a nice name."

"Really? I don't really like it. It sounds kinda cheerleader-ish, and it's so common. I mean, personally I'd like a unique name, you know? Something like Kennedy or Mikenzi."

"Personally, I've always wanted to be named Christian," Bruce said. I started laughing.

"In my world, the guy who plays you in the movies is named Christian Bale."

"Well that's odd." Bruce resumed eating. When he had finished chewing, he noticed that I hadn't had anything to drink.

"Are you not thirsty?" he asked.

"Oh, no, I am, I'm just too young to drink. I'm only eighteen."

"Well I won't tell if you don't," he winked at me.

"Um, that would be contributing to the delinquency of a minor, which is a crime. Doesn't Batman have higher morals?" I asked, eyebrows raised.

"Batman does. Bruce Wayne doesn't," he gave me a smirk that blew right off of the sexy-scale.

"Well, I don't really feel like getting drunk so you can ravish my virgin body," I said to him, smiling slightly.

"Virgin?" Bruce cocked an eyebrow. I answered by taking a bite of potatoes.

"These are really good. I totally need to get the recipe from Alfred," I said in an attempt to change the subject.

"You bake _and_ cook? You're just a woman of many talents."

"I don't cook. I try to, but it doesn't usually turn out well. I mean, you thought the explosion from Qui Gon Jinn was bad? Wait 'til you see me make French fries," I said.

"Qui Gon Jinn?"

"In my world, the guy who played your mentor also played a Jedi in a Star Wars movie," I explained. "To be honest, you're taking this whole 'alternate reality' thing pretty well. I mean, I thought I was gonna rock your world with my little explanation."

"I'd like to rock your world," Bruce said, giving me bedroom eyes. I almost fell for it. Almost. I think he noticed, too, because he got a slight frown after I shook off the trance-like state he'd put me in.

"So is seducing people your superpower or something?" I asked.

"A superpower is something you hide from the world. I'm pretty open about seduction."

"Huh." I took another bite of my dinner. It was so good, but there was so much food. I nearly finished it, but, for the life of me, I just couldn't eat the last potato. Bruce cleared his plate, and even got seconds of the roast and potatoes. Needless to say, I was impressed. He had managed to keep a teenage boy's appetite well into his twenties. Or was he in his thirties?

After dinner, Alfred brought out desert. German chocolate cake. God, if I had one weakness, it would be chocolate. Or carbs. Probably both. Anyway, I managed to eat a little bit of my piece of cake. Bruce poured me some champagne.

"Do you only have alcohol beverages in this place?" I asked.

"If I say yes will you drink some wine?"

"Maybe. My past encounters with alcohol haven't been pleasant."

"Well I assure you this champagne is delicious," he handed the glass to me. I sniffed it (don't ask me why), then took a small sip. It really was good! I drank some more. And some more. And even more. Bruce ended up refilling my glass five times. Or maybe eight? Well, whatever number it was, I obviously lost count. I think it was safe to say I was drunk. I vaguely remember the following events. I know he helped me upstairs, and into a room. Which room it was, I'm not sure, but I think it was mine. It was darker than his room, for sure. I was stumbling around like a stereotypical drunk. I ended up pulling him onto my bed, giggling incessantly.

"You're pretty," I told him, hugging his waist.

"Thanks," he said. I was too plastered at that moment to realize it, but he was struggling with his shoulder angels. In my mind, the battle probably went something like this:

Devil: Hell yeah! Let's get it on!

Angel: NO! That's so morally wrong! How can you even consider taking advantage of a drunk girl?

Devil: What? She's legal. She chose to drink,-

Angel: But she's underage, and she only had the opportunity because Bruce provided it!

Bruce: Hey, don't drag me into this!

Devil: Screw morals, and screw her. Seriously! You're a playboy, Bruce. This is what you do!

Angel: Don't listen to him! You're also Batman! You have a higher moral code that you must follow!

Devil: It's not like he's wearing a cape and cowl right now.

Angel: No, but she knows he's Batman, so around her at the very least he has to hold to Batman's standards.

Devil: Oh come on! She wants it. I can tell. So let's just get naked already!

Angel: You need to get a life!

Devil: No, I need to get laid!

Angel: Well then leave Bruce alone. He doesn't need to be caught in your high school horn dog phase!

Devil: Well if that's how you feel-

Bruce: Let's not get too hasty here.

Angel: Bruce!

Bruce: What? I'm just saying. She's legal age, she's pretty,-

Devil: And she's wasted! Now get in there and get it on!

Angel: Must you use such vulgar language?

Devil: Yes, I must. Now Bruce, what's it gonna be?

I imagine that he struggled with his decision for a long time. I mean, would he really take advantage of a drunk 18-year-old?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hi, this is Leslie Swanson. I'm going to assume that Kelly's started to tell you about her adventure, so I figure I should start telling mine.

So, we got rear-ended, and I saw Kelly and Gordo go through the windshield. Neither of us had been wearing our seatbelts (this'll make a great ad for the Safety Council; "Buckle up or you'll meet Batman!"), so we both went through. See, the airbag didn't deploy quick enough, so I didn't get caught behind the steering wheel. I went flying and crashed through the windshield right on top of a crack that had been in the glass for about a week. I think that must've been the cause of our getting transported to different parts of the city. The first thing I saw other than the interior of my car was dark. I hit the floor and rolled. When I opened my eyes, I was staring up at a burnt ceiling. I blinked a few times, not sure if I was alive or conscious. I heard feet move a few yards away from me. I sat up, brushing my hair out of my face.

"Who're you?" I heard from a dark corner.

"Who are _you_?" I replied.

"I asked you first," the voice said.

"My name is Leslie."

"Really? Cuz I think you look more like a Josie," the voice said. It was more curious than anything, but as he finished the statement I was knocked to the ground by a flood of memories. But they weren't _my_ memories. They were the Joker's. Here's the brief summary:

The Joker, whose real name was Jareth, had grown up in an abusive home. His mother was a Blackjack dealer, his father a drunk. When he was young, he had invented a world in his head where he was a hero. In his world, there were four courts, named after the suits of the playing cards his mother always had lying around. In his world, he had a friend, named Josie. She had blond, curly hair, and big brown eyes. She belonged to the Court of Hearts. Jareth himself belonged to no court, but he kept them all safe from any numbers that tried to upset the balance of good and evil. But by the time he had reached his late teens, there were no more villains to defeat. He began to go crazy. He was in such bad need of a villain that he decided to make one for himself. He named him the Joker, because that was the card that no one wanted. Within a matter of years, the Joker became so strong in Jareth's mind that it completely took over. The real world started to blend in to the make-believe realm that he had protected for so long, and the Joker was released into Gotham.

As I sat up, my mind still reeling from all of the memories. I heard feet stepping across the floor toward me. I looked up into the Joker's face.

"Jareth?" I asked. His smile faltered, and he blinked a few times.

"You remember me?" he asked. I nodded. Then next thing I knew, he was hugging me, eyes closed, with a small smile on his face. Then the smile was gone and the Joker was back.

"Well, this is a surprise," he said. "How'd you get here?"

"Accident," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"What kind of accident?"

"Car accident."

"Hm. Well, you're just in time for the fun," the Joker said, pulling me off of the floor. "The boys and I were just about to go shopping."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

RECAP! :

When we last heard, Bruce Wayne was struggling with his shoulder angels on whether or not to take advantage of drunken Kelly Swanson, a pretty 18-year-old. Let's see how it all turns out.

So, you were wondering whether or not Bruce would take advantage of me? Well, rest easy, because he didn't. I woke up the next day very hung over. I was still in my clothes from the previous day. I trudged down the stairs and into the kitchen. Bruce was sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper.

"Morning," he said. Though his voice was cheery, his eyes glinted with a hint of bitterness. I wondered what he was thinking.

"I hope I didn't do anything embarrassing last night," I said, averting my eyes and blushing slightly. I couldn't remember _doing_ anything, but I could certainly remember _thinking_ things.

"No, you didn't," Bruce replied almost regretfully. I sat down across from him. The kitchen table was much smaller than the dining table. It sat only four, as opposed to the twenty or so that would fit in the dining room.

"What would you like for breakfast?" he asked, folding the paper and putting it on the table.

"Doesn't Alfred make everything?" I asked.

"I gave him the day off," Bruce answered, standing up and walking toward the refrigerator. "So what'll it be?"

"What do you have?" I asked, trying to sound fine. I felt like I was going to fall asleep.

"Well," he began, studying the contents of his fridge, "we have eggs, milk, juice, wine, pop, butter, cream cheese, and watermelon." He looked at me inquiringly.

"My god. Did you say watermelon?"

"Yeah." That response did it. I threw myself at the fridge, grabbed the whole water melon, and tried to run out of the kitchen. You know what they say about alcohol impairing your motor skills? Well, even it's true. I tripped and began flying toward the floor. Bruce reached out and grabbed me, trying to keep me from falling, but he reached too far forward and ended up falling as well. Through some twist of gravity, we spun in midair, and I landed on the watermelon, which landed on Bruce, who landed on the floor. The watermelon blew up. I'm not even kidding. Bruce, the floor and I were all covered in the watermelon…well, water.

I looked up at Bruce, who had a slightly dazed look on his face, like he had no idea what the heck had just happened. He wasn't alone. But I, being as loveably retarded as I am, saw only the watermelon lying on his chest. So I began eating...without hands. In retrospect, it was probably the dumbest, weirdest, and most stupid thing I've ever done. Bruce merely looked at me for a few seconds.

"You must really like watermelon." I looked up at him with a shy grin. He smirked, but didn't say anything.

I climbed off of Bruce, and he stood up, wiping watermelon off of himself.

"Perfect day to let your butler have off," I chuckled, looking at the mess on the floor.

"Don't worry. I know how to use a mop."

"Really? Do you know how to do laundry?" I asked in mock fascination.

"Yeah," he laughed. "And I can tie my own shoes and everything."

"Wow, you're such a big boy," I laughed back. I faltered a bit when Bruce winked at me.

"I'm gonna go get a shower," I said, looking down at the watermelon-y mess on my shirt. I turned to go upstairs, stopped, and then turned back.

"The bathroom across from your room, one door to the left," Bruce anticipated my question.

"Thanks," I said. I went upstairs and got into the shower. As the water started, I started singing. But it wasn't the kind of singing that you only do in the bathroom because you're really bad. I actually have a pretty good voice.

I lathered my hair. The shampoo didn't have the fruity scent I was used to, but I decided it didn't really matter. When I got to the body wash, I noticed it smelled like Bruce. Or maybe _Bruce_ smelled like _it_. Whatever. Why did it matter what Bruce smelled like? Jeez. And how did I even _know_ what he smelled like? Oh yeah. I'd just been laying on his chest. Heheh…I finished showering and reached out for a towel. Nothing. I pulled the shower curtain aside to see if I'd missed it. There wasn't a towel in the room. I knew there'd been a towel on the rack when I'd gone in. I looked around the bathroom for a few more minutes before stepping out to look in the cabinets. I opened the first one and found a hairdryer, hairspray, a brush, and a straightener. I was about to open the second cabinet when I heard the doorknob begin to turn. I rushed to get back into the shower, but slipped on the wet floor. I grabbed the shower curtain to hold me up, but it ripped off of the curtain rod and fell to the ground with me. As the door opened, I pulled the curtain around my body, still on the floor.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked, looking down at me. I must've been quite a sight. Soaking wet, with hair sticking across my face, wrapped in a blue and white shower curtain, long legs sticking out.

"I was, uh, looking for a towel," I said.

"A towel? They're in the closet next door."

"Well, I thought there was one on the rack," I admitted. Bruce smirked slightly.

"I'll go get you a towel." Bruce stepped out, opened the closet door, and came back into the bathroom. He handed the towel to me and just stood there. I got to my feet, keeping the shower curtain covering my body, and seamlessly replaced it with the fluffy, white towel, all while not showing a single thing I didn't want exposed.

"I wanted to ask you something," Bruce said.

"What?"

"Well, there's a cocktail party coming up and I need dates, so I wondered if you would like to come with me."

"Dates?"

"Yes. As Bruce Wayne, I always have more than one woman with me. I'm expected to have multiple dates."

"Oh, of course," I said in a slightly mocking manner.

"So, are you in?"

"Pardon?"

"Do you want to go to the party?" he asked.

"I don't know. I'm not really your typical bimbo."

"There'll be champagne."

"Cuz I really want to get drunk in a room of diplomats and rich people."

"There'll be a custom designed dress for you."

"I can custom-design my own dresses." I shifted my weight to my right leg.

"There'll be cheesecake."

"Cheesecake, you say?" I narrowed my eyes slightly. Bruce stepped toward me.

"All you can eat. _And_ a chocolate fountain," Bruce was now six inches away from me. I hadn't even realized he'd moved closer.

"Sign me up," I said. Cheesecake and a chocolate fountain? That's my heaven on earth!

"I'll have a designer in tomorrow," Bruce smirked down at me.

"Okay, cool." I brushed past him to get out of the bathroom. It was probably just me, but when my shoulder touched him, I felt a tingle of electricity. I looked up into his eyes and time seemed to slow.

I shook it off and returned to my room. What was I thinking? This was _Bruce_ _Wayne_. I'd seen the movies. I knew how he was with women. I shook my head and slicked my wet hair back from my face. It had probably been my imagination. I mean, I'm the girl that doesn't get involved with guys. I'll look, but I never _ever_ touch. I'm too focused for that. I looked at myself in the mirror above my dresser.

"Get it together," I told myself.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I toweled off my hair and started to get dressed. I put on some cute jeans, a tank top, and layered with a graphic tee. My hair was still damp, but I really didn't mind. I didn't have any makeup, so I went without. Not that I'd actually wear it if I had it anyway. Makeup had always been a bit too much hassle for me. I bounced down the stairs and into the main living room. God this house was huge. I bet I hadn't even seen half of it. I flopped down on a leather sectional couch and grabbed a remote from the coffee table and inspected it. It had buttons for power, volume, and channel, so I figured it was for the widescreen plasma TV on the opposite wall. I clicked the power button and was blasted with music. The pounding beat knocked me over from sheer surprise. I floundered on the couch, looking for the remote. I finally found it under the ottoman, and I pushed the button. The music shut off, and I flopped onto the couch and sighed, closing my eyes. My head was throbbing from the hangover and recent music. I heard a chuckle from the doorway.

Whirling around, I saw Bruce leaning against the wall. His hair was wet, and a few drops of water trickled down his bare chest and rippling muscles. Whoa, rippling muscles? Why do I care if he has rippling muscles? I don't. At all. Really!

"Wrong remote," I said, darting my eyes away from him.

"Yeah," he replied. He walked over toward the coffee table, and I saw that he was only wearing a towel. I blinked and turned away. I could feel my cheeks begin to warm up. Bruce reached down and pulled open a drawer. He clicked on the TV, and a female news reporter came on screen. I scooted back a little bit on the couch, lounging against the cushion. I tensed a bit when Bruce sat down near me.

"So…" I began. I didn't know what to say after that, so I merely trailed off.

"Did you enjoy your shower?" Bruce asked.

"Uh, yeah. The water was…really warm." I winced at my words. Was I really that lame that I couldn't talk to a guy? Well, he _was_ practically naked.

"Yeah," he chuckled.

"So, um, how do you change the channel?" I asked, reaching for the remote. Bruce reached out and put his hand on top of mine, holding me back from the remote. I looked at him, and he was staring deep into my eyes.

"You have to push the right buttons," his eyes sparked. I blushed involuntarily.

"And those buttons would be?" As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized it sounded like I was flirting. Bruce obviously thought I was, because he leaned toward me, tilting his head down toward my face.

Now, I'm not the kind of girl to just kiss guys. I mean, I've only ever had one boyfriend, and he never kissed me! But…well, from what I could tell Bruce was an amazing kisser. _**Amazing**_. He left me practically breathless. After we broke apart, I didn't know what to do. Should I say something? Should I leave? Should I try it again? That's when _my_ shoulder angels popped up.

Angel: Shame on you, Kelly! I mean really. Letting some guy kiss you? I thought you'd been raised better!

Devil: What are you talking about? You know what that kiss was like. Admit it, even _you_ liked it!

Angel: Kelly, you aren't the kind of girl to do this kind of thing. Just think of all the STDs you might've just gotten!

Devil: Come on, would you _look_ at that body? He's a first-class hunk muffin, and we _all_ know how much we like muffins.

Angel: That language is so inappropriate!

Devil: Nu-uh!

Angel: Yeah-huh!

Kelly: Guys, please, you're going to give me a headache. Would you just decide who's right already?

Angel: Well good always wins, so therefore I'm right.

Devil: Good doesn't always win. Besides, you're just pious. That kiss was _gooooood_.

Angel: I am not pious!

Devil: Yes you are! Why else would you be the angel?

Angel: Kelly, think about your future. Your goals, your career as a director!

Devil: Oh, we all know that the experiences she has with Bruce would make an excellent movie.

Kelly: I'd never direct smut!

Devil: I'm not saying it has to go to theaters or anything. You could just watch it. The two of you. All alone. Oh, the memories you could make. The stuff you could-

Angel: Virgin ears!

Devil: Oh please.

Kelly: Well, she has a point.

Devil: Are you kidding me?

Kelly: Can we please stay on topic?

Devil: This _is_ on topic!

Kelly: I mean about Bruce.

Devil: This has to _do_ with Bruce.

Angel: Oh, for crying out loud, this isn't accomplishing anything. Kelly, just make a decision. Are you going to kiss him again or are you going to walk away?

There was a very long silence. Very long. And then…


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_Ring, ring. Ring, ring._

Bruce's phone. Damn. Bruce stood and picked up the nearest handset, which was resting on the coffee table. As he began a conversation with whoever was on the line, and I snuck into the kitchen. I was pouring myself a cup of coke when the doorbell rang. I didn't pay attention to it, since it was obviously for Bruce, but the next thing I knew, some fabulously flamboyant- man?- walked into the kitchen, followed by Bruce. The man walked right up to me, spun me around twice, looking up and down my body.

"Mmhmm, I know just what for you," he said in an accent that _had_ to be fake.

"What?" I asked.

"This is Janajacque, (Yanna-jacque)" Bruce explained, "He's going to design your dress."

"For that party thing? But I just agreed less than an hour ago," I said.

"I called ahead," Bruce said. "I had a feeling you'd say yes." Before I could say anything, 'Janajacque' went off like an alarm.

"Now you take off the clothes and I begin."

"What?!" I said. "I don't think so!"

"Do you want be dressed or no?" Janajacque asked, getting his diva finger out.

"I'm not undressing in front of him," I pointed at Bruce. Janajacque turned to look at him, then turned back to me and asked 'why not?'

"Don't worry, I've gotta go get dressed," Bruce said, winking at me. I made a bit of a face as he left, and then Janajacque pulled my shirt off. He opened a bag that he had brought with him, and pulled out some bolts of fabric, and draped them over me.

The next three hours went by in a flurry of movement and color. Then, Janajacque stepped back, revealing me in a dazzling, custom-made dress. It was a backless halter with a long skirt. There were two slits up the side, going all the way to my thigh. The fabric was a silky purple, and the neckline plunged down almost to my bellybutton. Needless to say, I wasn't wearing a bra.

"Very nice," Bruce said. My eyes darted over to the doorway, where a fully dressed Bruce leaned against the wooden framework.

"How long have you been there?" I demanded.

"A while," he smirked. God he had a sexy smirk. Not that I cared or anything.

"Well, I finished. You transfer the fee to my account," Janajacque said, packing up his things and leaving. Bruce saw him out, and closed the door behind him. Turning back to face me, Bruce flicked his eyes up and down my body.

"Very nice," he said.

"Hey, I'm only going for the cheesecake and chocolate. Anything beyond that is prohibited."

"For now," Bruce winked at me. I rolled my eyes and grabbed my clothes from the kitchen floor, then went upstairs to change. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and caught my breath. I looked kinda like a movie star. Albeit a somewhat skanky movie star, but a movie star nonetheless. I turned away from the mirror, closed my bedroom door, and changed back into my normal clothes. I put the dress and a hanger and hung it in my closet. I went back downstairs to find Bruce on the phone.

"Yeah, sure. Well, I can't make it to the office today. Yeah, you can just come to my place. Alright, see you then," he said. He shut his cell phone and looked at me.

"Who was that? One of your dates?"

"Hardly. It was a business associate." I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a drink- apple juice to be precise.

"Oh really? And who is this associate?"

"Tony Stark."

Classic spit take.

"Tony Stark?" I asked, staring in disbelief.

"Yeah. You know him?"

"No, but…I've gotta get ready! If he's coming here…how long do I have? Oh my god, Tony Stark?" I grew very flustered. I mean, I LOVE Robert Downey Jr! True, he and Tony Stark aren't the same person, but I bet they were pretty close.

"Wait a second. You like Tony Stark?"

"Uh, yeah! He's only the smartest, sexiest weapon's tycoon ever!"

"Are you kidding me? Tony Stark? Really?" I passed Bruce while he was still trying to grasp the concept. I ran upstairs and raided my closet, trying to find something cute yet sexy.

After several minutes of searching, I decided on an outfit. I changed into a black, pleated miniskirt with a hot pink top which plunged a tad to show a bit of cleavage. The doorbell rang and my breath hitched in my chest.


End file.
